The Silver Ink Slayer ( A Splatoon Short Story)
by rjq436
Summary: The new land mass finally appeared. General Tso issues a draft order to build up the Inkling Army. Can the Inklings defeat the Octarian Forces in what many has dubbed the next "Great Turf War"?


**Chapter 1**

It's been 300 years since we've fought the last Octarians in Octovalley. However, news of the falling sea levels has caused uproars among the citizens. I see it everywhere I go. The old people talk about the dangers of another possible turf war, while the young ones fantasize about being the next Captain Cuttlefish. Everyone knew the day would come, I just didn't realize it would come so soon.

On December 1st, I received my letter. General Tso, the new Commander-In-Chief, issued a draft to all citizens of Inkopolis, Calamari, and Tempura County to support the war effort. Not long after the draft letters were sent, we all saw the news about the new land mass appearing. It was rumored to be large enough to start another major city.

I spent my last week in town training with gramps. He was more serious than his usual self. We went over hand-to-hand combat techniques, tactics, and he even taught me how to harness our clan's special ability. I guess you could say that I come from what others would call an "elite" lineage. Only the most gifted Inkling clans could harness a special ability, and I was fortunate to be born into one them. Gramps even has a sunken scroll depicting the tales of our ancestor Hanzo, and how he was instrumental to ending the war. He was supposedly so powerful, that Octarians issued a mandatory retreat command at the sight of his ink.

On my last day at home, Gramps took me to see Honjo to pick up my new armor and weapon.

"I added some modifications to the original concept" said Honjo.

"No crazy surprises right? Your last mod put me in the infirmary for a week" I joked.

"Ha-ha. No, I made sure these ones were perfect" Honjo said with a saddened look on his face. "The mask has night vision, and echo-location. I made the chest piece out of Deep Sea grade metal to enhance its durability. I've also tuned it so you can enter stealth mode while in your ink. The shoes have ink resistance and ink recovery properties. This time I perfected the speed boost. Your shuriken bombs are set to explode on impact and your paint brush short swords are made of Deep Sea grade metal as well. I _made_ sure everything was perfect"

"Thank you bud" I said as I clasped Honjo on his shoulder. He and I are best buds. We're one of the few young ones in our village. His great, great-grandfather was one of the most famous weapons smith in history. Everyone paid top dollar for Masamune's products. While Honjo enjoys making some crazy inventions, I knew that when he put his mind to it, I would be safe with his gear.

Once I arrived at the training grounds, I familiarized myself with my new gear. Everything was working as Honjo claimed. In fact, everything was customized to my ability. _You really out-did yourself_ , I thought to myself as I leaped from wall to wall, splatting every training dummy in sight.

In the evening I ate dinner with Gramps. We laughed as we reminisced on good memories, but you could tell there was a solemn feeling lingering in the air. Both of us knew that this wasn't going to be like the Rank Wars, where you get to respawn if you get splatted in a stage. In reality, one lapse in judgement could mean the end of your life. The finality of it scared me. I could die as easily as I blinked. It was a horrific thought, and one that I tried to put in the back of my mind.

I had trouble sleeping on my last night. I kept tossing and turning in my bed. I just couldn't believe that I was being sent to war. Once my alarm rang, I got up and got ready. I wasn't hungry, so I skipped breakfast and asked gramps to just take me to the dock. He and I were the same in that we hate these types of occasions. The ride there was filled with awkward silence. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind.

When we arrived at the dock, Gramps and I said our good byes. He tried his best to keep himself from crying, but I could see him tearing up. "I'll be back soon" I said as I waved him good bye. I didn't dare look back. I kept my teary eyes forward as I boarded the ship that was taking me to Camp Viperfish.

The ocean breeze calmed me. I stood on the top deck, leaning against the rails, basking in the ambience of the endless sea. I felt the rays of sunlight warm my skin and the occasional ocean spray cool me off. For the first time in a week, I felt like the weight of reality lifted off my shoulders for a moment of respite.

After six hours of sailing, the ship docked inside a tropical cove. I could see security towers built on high vantage points, while the main structures were built into the Cliffside. A 30 foot wall of concrete lined the perimeter of the base. It's as if someone built a fancy prison on a nice, sandy, tropical paradise.

As I exited the ship, I was stopped at a security check point. The guard verified my identification card and draft letter, and then told me to head into the mess hall. The giant mess hall was lined with long wooden tables fixed into ten separate rows. I took a seat on an empty spot at the third row of benches closest to the entrance. I glanced over to my left to see if I should try and talk to the person beside me, but I decided to remain quiet as I couldn't think of anything to say.

Two hours passed, and the mess hall finally filled to its max capacity.

"Company, Attention!" yelled one of the Drill Sergeants. Everyone stood up quickly to the position of attention, where we stood up-right with our arms fixed down the side of our legs. Suddenly, General Tso walked into the mess hall. He looked regal in his military uniform. His eyes were a crimson red, shining like a flame against the woodland mesh of greens and browns of the standard issued military battle uniform.

"Good Afternoon soldiers" General Tso's voice boomed throughout the mess hall. "As you all know, we are here to seize the new land mass from the Octarian forces. That is our mission. We will ensure that you are all properly trained and ready to be deployed into the combat zones. Remember men, this isn't a game of Rank Wars. It'll behoove of you to pay close attention to your Drill Sergeants as their advice will keep you alive. Some of you will be heroes, and some of you will die. That is the reality of things. Remember, slow is smooth and smooth is fast. Good luck men".

General Tso left as quickly as he entered. He didn't wait for a response from anyone. He simply gave his command and expected it to be followed. His words sunk in deep for most recruits. Some embraced General Tso's call to arms, while others had a worried look on their face. It's as if they were a lost child looking for someone to help them find their way.

The Drill Sergeants didn't waste a single moment. They quickly filed us into separate platoons of 40 recruits each and assigned us a battle roster number. My battle roster number was 436 because I was the sixth member assigned to third squad, fourth platoon in Trident Company.

The entire first day was spent waiting in line to receive our uniforms and other basic issued items. We were shown our barracks, which was one giant room with bunks lining the perimeter. The only thing that separated people was the lockers in between each bunk.

Drill Sergeant Neptune was in charge of Fourth Platoon. He was a medium built, tall, Inkling with a scar that ran diagonally across his face. He didn't yell much, but that only made him seem scarier.

"You all have twenty minutes to get settled. When I return, I expect your bunks to be made and your gear to be stowed into your lockers". Drill Sergeant Neptune Commanded as he walked briskly out the door.

"Hey mate, I'm Nigiri" said a short recruit with his hand held out.

"Hibachi" I said as I shook his hand.

"I figured we should introduce ourselves, since we're bunkmates and all"

I nodded in agreement. Nigiri and I exchanged stories of where we grew up. He was a city boy straight from Inkopolis. He had a spunky personality and seemed very optimistic about everything. Frankly, his company brightened my mood. I felt relieved that a happy-go-lucky type of person became my bunk mate.

Nigiri made a big deal out of my silver eyes. He talked as if I was some famous celebrity or like an elite caste of some sort. Personally, I couldn't understand why. People back home didn't pay much attention to eye color. They judged individuals based on their personalities, and what they've done, not what they could potentially do. City boys and their fanatics with lineage made no sense to me. Nevertheless, it did explain why no one talked to me until now.

Drill Sergeant Neptune returned in exactly 20 minutes. He commanded us to line up in front of our bunks. "Since a few of you failed to complete your task, that means all of you failed. Gear up, we are going for a nice team building exercise" Drill Sergeant Neptune rushed us out the door and got us into a platoon formation, in ascending squad order. The next hour was hell. Even though I was in shape, I struggled to keep up with the group. We ran at a seven minute mile for the first twenty minutes, and only slowed the pace because we had to carry each member that fell behind. When majority of the platoon fell out, Drill Sergeant Neptune allowed them several minutes of respite. However, everyone else had to do push-ups until the fall outs caught their breath. Recruits were puking left and right, some suffered massive leg cramps and others felt dizzy from the tropical heat. Despite all this, Drill Sergeant Neptune ran us down with no empathy in his eyes. He didn't seem bothered by every ones agony.

When we returned he marched us straight into the showers. He held a stop watch and allowed each person 60 seconds to wash the grime away. When people failed to follow his directions, he physically removed them from the shows and simply yelled "Next!"

After we got dressed, he brought in a box of rations. He ordered everyone to form a single-file line as he handed out three rations for each person.

"The remaining time of the day is yours, lights out at 1000 hours" he said as he exited our sleeping quarters. While the run was nightmarish, it did break the ice amongst our platoon. More recruits mingled with one another. I chose to eat my rations on my bunk with Nigiri. We conversed as we tried to stretch the soreness out from our legs and arms, and showed each other our weapons. Shortly after, some other recruits came over to our bunks and introduced themselves. Most of them were from the city, and like all city boys, they were fascinated with my lineage. There were two others with colored eyes in my platoon, each with their own passé of recruits. It seemed like all the outliers of the group tried to side themselves with me. _Oh well_ , I thought to myself. At least I'm making friends one way or another.


End file.
